Cars raced by. I was dawdling, distracted by Caleb’s unease in the backseat as we traveled home from Children’s Hospital. The doctor had listened but offered us nothing to fix the anxiety that compelled him to pummel himself and scream. We had nothing either. So I prayed
I need three herons
An odd fleece to promise hope
Yet God sent sevenAnd scores in the years since. Now when the hitting and screaming has resumed and we still have nothing to fix it, a heron sighting seems to contain all the stars in the heavens and all the grains of sand on the shore, a strong witness for continuing the journey, like Abraham, living in hope of what we do not yet possess.
© 2016 – Laurel Archer
Photo Credit: Laurel Archer
Poetry form: Haibun, Laurel Archer
I share your love of Herons.The sight of them encourages me too. I like the phrase “Living in hope of what we do not yet possess.” It also brings to mind the word anamnesis which means to recollect or bring to mind. I first encountered that word in a book by Madeline L’Engle who said that it isn’t just the past we can recollect but we can remember the future too. A hopeful future memory we grab onto as a done deal. Love that concept.
Yes, that is interesting Beryle!
Oh Laurel. I am appreciating the truth and vulnerability in your words! Thank you for this good, good, read today.
Hello Karen! You are most welcome.
Hope lives on. Beautiful post.